He followed the blur of movement with his eyes. The place turned into a whirlwind of motion—a battlefield cloaked in chaos. Successive attacks fell upon him like black tempests from all sides. Ace barely kept up with the blistering speed. Each movement was a flash, followed by the clang of metal. Sparks flew with every clash, lighting the scene like stars joining the fight. Every echoing strike was met by another, faster and fiercer. Every step Ace took, the creature had already taken three.
Despite his skill and reflexes, some attacks slipped through, leaving shallow cuts across his body. They weren't deep, but they burned. Still, Ace did not yield, even while battling what seemed to be a living shadow.
The storm lasted only moments before the rabbit returned to its position among its soldiers. Its body trembled, breath quickened, while its opponent remained calm, sharp eyes locked in silent assessment.
The little rabbit kept staring at his opponent with wide eyes, as if trying to comprehend what had happened. His prey had always fallen the moment he unleashed his attacks—but this young man was different. Though his body was riddled with wounds, his confidence remained unshaken. He stood firm, unwavering, and the look in his eyes sent a shiver of danger through the rabbit's heart, a feeling unfamiliar to him.
In stark contrast, Ace's breathing was calm and steady. The anger in his eyes didn't stem from pain, but from something else entirely—the tattered clothes, shredded by the rabbit's attacks. Clothes that the little girl had spent so much time sewing, pouring all her care and affection into every stitch.
Ace examined the torn threads, and a furious expression overtook his face. His eyes sparked as he stepped forward silently. The aura radiating from him in that moment was enough to ignite fear in the hearts of the other rabbits. Their leader flinched for a brief second—not out of fear, but from an innate instinct, a gut feeling that his opponent had changed.
Still, he refused to back down—or so he tried to convince himself. His foot betrayed him, retreating a small step backward, barely noticeable, but it did not escape the eyes of his followers. A wave of unease swept through them as they exchanged glances filled with doubt. Sensing this, the small rabbit's fury surged. He questioned how they could doubt his strength. How could he allow them to witness even the slightest crack in his intimidation?
He let out a fierce growl, his voice sharp and piercing. His black fur rippled, and his eyes gleamed with savage madness.
But Ace didn't stop. His features grew more resolute as he continued to advance. The ominous aura surrounding his opponent seemed to him no more than a light mist. To the rabbit, however, the scene was bewildering. He had always been the source of terror, yet now he stood before an adversary who knew no fear. Some rabbits in the back trembled, a few even stepped away, giving their leader more space, as if offering him a final chance to prove himself.
The small rabbit tensed his body, muscles swelling with the realization that one moment could decide between victory and the fall of someone who believed himself unbeatable. The dark aura around him pulsed with a deep crimson tint, radiating malevolence—an energy Ace could sense clearly.
Then, in a burst of courage befitting a leader of his stature, the black rabbit launched forward with a speed that surpassed anything he had shown before. It was as if the air itself split to make way for his ferocious charge. Blades of grass flew in all directions as if reacting to the sheer force of his movement. Every taut muscle in his body released like a drawn bowstring, and his burning eyes locked onto the young man with deadly focus.
Mid-charge, he leapt—his sharp claws extending like daggers meant to rip life away. But in a flash, like a lightning bolt slicing through darkness, the young man vanished. There was no trace—no sound, no shadow—only an empty void.
The small rabbit's eyes widened in astonishment, his breath caught in his throat. But there was no time for answers.
Suddenly, the world in front of his eyes split apart. The same scene—the barn, the grass, the prey that had once awaited their fate—was now divided into two perfect halves. His mind couldn't grasp what had just happened, but his body felt it—a cold sensation, as if a sharp blade had passed through him. It seeped into his very being. The glow in his eyes faded, and life left them as if a candle had been snuffed out by a sudden wind.
His small body dropped to the ground like a discarded puppet—cleanly cut into two halves. Dark blue blood trickled across the grass like an artist's stroke painting the end of a once-proud leader who believed himself invincible.
For a moment, the smaller rabbits didn't move. It was as though shock had frozen time. They held their breath, their little eyes fixed only on their fallen leader, now lying in two lifeless parts. Then realization struck, and panic erupted in their ranks.
Their small bodies quivered, their faces baring tiny fangs. Red eyes widened until they looked ready to pop from their sockets. Their feet couldn't find traction on the ground. Long ears drooped in fear, as if their instincts screamed the undeniable truth: there was no longer a path to victory. No leader. No protector. They understood that death was all that awaited if they stayed.
Chaos broke out. The rabbits began to leap and run, crashing into each other through the grass. No clear direction—only a single instinct guiding them: escape before death caught up.
Their screams became a dissonant symphony. Tiny feet pounded the earth, bodies flew in every direction, claws scratched at the soil, kicking up clouds of dust and shredded grass. It was clear that fear had overtaken all of them—fleeing, clinging to whatever hope of survival remained. Some followed clearer paths, while others collided in confusion. A few stood frozen, uncertain of where to go, awaiting their grim fate.
Amid this chaos, Ace stood still. His chest rose and fell under the weight of exhaustion. He watched the scene unfold. The final move he had executed to end the black rabbit had drained much of his energy, but he wasn't going to leave the mission incomplete. He couldn't allow those creatures to escape. They might return one day—and pose a threat again.
Showing mercy could spell disaster for the elderly couple at the farm. So he had no choice but to sacrifice one of his precious resources—something he had hoped to avoid unless the situation truly demanded it. Reaching to the small pouch on his lower back, Ace pulled out a smooth metallic sphere. He raised it in front of him. Though small in size, it carried the promise of devastating power.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself, then pressed his thumb against the button on its center. Instantly, the display on its surface lit up, and the countdown began.
He assumed a throwing stance, clenched the sphere tightly, and with the grace of a skilled pitcher, hurled it into the air. The ball shot forward, slicing through the space between him and the rabbits, leaving behind a faint trail of light—like a rogue star falling from the sky. The air tore with a sharp whistle as it sped toward its target.
Then, once it reached the center of the fleeing herd, the explosion erupted—flames burst upward, consuming the grass. Moments ago, the rabbits had been full, living beings scrambling for an escape. Now, they were scattered fragments in the air. Their bodies torn apart by the fiery blast, their blood sprayed like rain, drawing final lines across the burning grass.
Within seconds, the dry grasses around them were devoured by flames, spreading quickly, as if they had been waiting for a single spark to ignite into a sea of fire.
The air filled with the stench of smoke and burning flesh. The continuous crackling of the fire sounded like a funeral dirge, playing to the rhythm of death. The blaze didn't last long. It gradually died down, while Ace observed the destruction he had wrought. His face was calm—no sign of remorse or pity. He understood that what had occurred was necessary—a step he had to take.
Deep inside, he was surprised by the intensity of the blast—not for the first time, but for the second. Though it wasn't as powerful as the explosion in front of the giant ogre, it was still at least twice as strong as what the bomb should've produced. He paused, reflecting on the cause. He surmised that the composition of the air here had amplified the chemical reaction, with the purity of the atmosphere and surrounding gases intensifying the explosion.